


Blue Ward

by SophieHatter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Animal Death, Animals, Magic Revealed, Magical Animals, Multi, Urban Fantasy, Veterinary Clinic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-07-12 11:59:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15994736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieHatter/pseuds/SophieHatter
Summary: The first time that she remembers talking to an animal, Cordana was four years old. It was an accident, slicing the worm in half with her trowel.“Don’t worry,” her grandmother told her, “The worm will be two worms, now.”That seemed like magic to her. How could one animal become two animals, simply because you cut it in half?Cordana crouched down, nose close to the soil, and watched the two halves of the earthworm squirm.“No, Grandma. That’s not true. Only one of the worms is speaking and it says it hurts.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

 

The first time that she remembers talking to an animal, Cordana was four years old. It was an accident, slicing the worm in half with her trowel.

“Don’t worry,” her grandmother told her, “The worm will be two worms, now.”

That seemed like magic to her. How could one animal become two animals, simply because you cut it in half?

Cordana crouched down, nose close to the soil, and watched the two halves of the earthworm squirm.

“No, Grandma. That’s not true. Only one of the worms is speaking and it says it hurts.”

Shaking her head, Grandma had dismissed Cordana’s observation as a childish fantasy. Cute, but what does a four year old know about earthworms?

She could tell you that they feel pain. She could tell you that they like her Grandmother’s garden soil, that it is rich in delicious organic matter, that the abundant resources make it a good place to reproduce. They like the pH here, too. Too acidic and their digestion is upset, the microbes they prefer don’t thrive, the soil tastes sharp.

Cordana could tell you that, now, and you’d believe her. When she was four, everyone told her what a vivid imagination she had.

 

* * *

 

Dana sat in the Principal’s office, scruffy and dirty, her school dress ripped at the waist. Her blonde hair was half falling out of its plait. She did not care about these things. Her tears had dried up and just the frustration remained.

“What happened, Dana?” Dana liked Mrs Harmon. The tall woman talked to her like a person, asked good questions, she listened.

Despite all that, Dana just shrugged a shoulder in answer.

“Mr Lampole saw you fighting with the boys in the playground.”

Dana repeated her response. That was true, no denying it. She had fought the older boys.

“Why, Dana?”

“They stood on it.” It was her fault, if she’d just left him alone.

“They hurt you?” Mrs Harmon sat down opposite her.

“No, they hurt him.”

That sounded more like the Dana Mrs Harmon knew. “You were protecting him?”

“I was. I found him in the bushes and I made him a home and I was getting water from the tap. And the boys grabbed the box and then they jumped on him. And he died.” Her tears returned, he had cried out when they killed him.

“Who died?” Mrs Harmon asked. “I don’t understand, Dana.”

This, this was what frustrated her. She tried not to cry, but it hurt when they killed him. “The caterpillar. I found him and I made him a home. And I was getting water and they squashed him.”

The two older boys had knocked the used milk carton out of her hands and then jumped on it when she told them to be careful. When he screamed before he died, Dana heard it. So then she had pushed the boy, for taking the caterpillar’s life. She had fought them both and the scuffle was what had brought her here, to Mrs Harmon’s office, where she was in trouble for pushing and the two boys were being comforted elsewhere and not getting in trouble for killing.

“Oh, Dana,” Mrs Harmon sighed and leant closer. “I know it seems wrong, but it was just a caterpillar.”

“He was not. His name was Corey. He was my friend.”


	2. Chapter 2

Furvus nibbled at her ear, playing with her earring.

“Not yours,” she told him, pushing his beak away from the shiny gem. “And I’m busy.”

The pygmy gryphon sighed dramatically. _Bored_. He creeled a little and leant down from her shoulder, reaching for the cap of her pen. Darting his beak forward, he tried to wrestle the pen from Cord’s grip while his feline tail battered the back of her head.

“Oh, just have it,” she grumbled, pulling the blue cap off and holding it for him to take.

 _Mine!_ Furvus’ triumph was clear as he took the blue lid from her with his curved, black beak and transferred it to one clawed foreleg. _Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine_ , his thoughts sang triumphantly as he leapt from her shoulder, flapped his wings twice and landed in the space under Cord’s desk. It was his office bower and it was decidedly lacking in beautiful blue. Furvus dropped the lid at one end of the woven tunnel that was made for his future mate as a courting place. Straightening the interwoven paper, sticks, grass and tongue depressors, he paced backwards, admiring his work. Now for the new centre piece of his design.

With his beak, Furvus retrieved the new pen lid and paced down the length of his bower, picking the perfect place, the one spot that she, his future love, would see and think to herself, _This boy knows his blue. Knows his art. He is the one for me._

Yes, she would choose him and his blue pen lids and needle caps and that peg. The milk bottle top, his favourite, and the blue tile he had found by the rubbish bin. Pieces of thread, a hair tie, a paper clip. Ah yes, he had taste, he worked hard, he was an artist. And she would fall in love with him the minute she saw his beautiful bower.

Cord tucked a stray hair behind her ear and put her signature on the last of the invoices. Another lunch hour spent wielding a pen when she had studied and worked for seven years to wield a scalpel.

 _Going to clinic_ , she told Furvus. He wasn’t interested so she left him to his avian architecture.

The invoices she placed on Lyall’s desk before taking the stairs down to the wards. She hadn’t even had time to put on her doctor’s coat when the call came over the loud speaker.

“ **Emergency in Triage. Emergency in Triage**.”

Shoving her arms into the coat, Cord made her way past the nurses’ station and pushed open the door to Triage. Ben was bent over the patient, fingers in the dog’s black and white fur, assessing the injuries. Cord approached the bench, pulling on gloves, and nodded to the nurse taking vitals.

“Car accident. Owner reversed over him. His name is Francis,” Magda answered.

“How old?” Cord asked, her fingers mirroring Ben’s, feeling through Francis’ fur, assessing for pain, blood, breaks.

“Three, four. Around that.”

Beneath Cord’s fingers, Francis was trembling. Fear, pain, confusion emanated from him.

“Shhshh,” Cord murmured, stroking his head. _We’re friends, Francis. The pain will go soon, when you wake up you’ll feel better. Your people will be here. I am a friend. We are helping you. The pain will be gone soon. You will sleep ..._

Cord raised her eyes to her junior vet and Ben nodded, so she kept soothing Francis as Ben administered the sedative. When she felt the dog slip into the chemical sleep, she pulled back.

“Nice work. What are we looking at?”

Ben hooked his stethoscope back around his neck. “Broken leg, lacerations, bruising. We’ll look for internal bleeding when we x-ray the leg. Magda?”

“Blood pressure is good, hopefully no internals,” the nurse replied.

“Great, let’s get him x-rayed.”

Cord left them to it with a wave, threw her used gloves in the bin and pushed open the doors to reception.

Scanning her afternoon clinic list, Cord saw a few familiar names, mostly cats and dogs. There were two Kalabri on the list - a phoenix and a colony of salamanders. Not a busy day, then. She looked back at the top of the list and called her first patient.

 

* * *

 

Vaccinations, a wellness check on a diabetic cat and a dog with worms filled her first hour. As she bid farewell to the now wormed dog, Cord became aware of the stir that her next patient was causing in the waiting room.

“Cyril,” she smiled at the familiar round face. It hadn’t changed much over the years, except that his hair was now grey. “Sparks,” she said, both out loud and mentally, “How are you both?”

“Oh, very well, Cordana,” Cyril replied. Cord turned and began walking towards her Kalabri exam room.

_My foot itches,_ Sparks told her. 

“Your foot itches?” Cord asked aloud, shutting the door behind them, “Why is that?” She bent down underneath the exam table and pulled out her asbestos gloves.

 _Are you not the expert?_ Sparks replied. _It does itch and I do not know why. Sometimes I bite it and that makes it better._

“I don’t usually recommend biting your itches, Sparks. Rubbing them, yes, but not biting. Have you noticed anything, Cyril?”

Cyril brought his arm down to the perch at the end of the exam table and allowed Sparks to step gracefully off. He was only hearing half the conversation between his bird and Dr. Cord, but he was well used to this way of interacting with them both.

“There is some swelling,” Cyril pointed to Spark’s left foot, “Of the last digit.”

“And redness, too,” Cord observed. “Sparks, may I touch your foot? It might hurt a little.”

 _Do as you must_ , he permitted. Cord wondered why all phoenixes had posh British accents and whether it was a learned or innate behaviour.

The asbestos gloves, while useful when handling all kinds of fire type Kalabri animals, made feeling anything next to impossible.

 _Try not to flame me_ , Cord asked Sparks. His only reply was a haughty sniff.

The joint was swollen and hot to the touch. A phoenix normally had an elevated temperature, but compared to the surrounding tissue, the toe was far hotter. Slowly manipulating and squeezing, Cord listened to Sparks voicing his displeasure with squawks and hisses that she would have been able to understand were she an animal mage or not.

Finished, she asked, “Any other soreness or possible infections?”

Cyril shook his head, as Sparks replied in the negative.

“It’s unusual,” she said to them both, “For a phoenix to get any type of infection. Sparks, your elevated temperature prevents most bacteria from surviving in your body, so this has me worried. I would like you to take antibiotics for the next five days and come and see me next week.”

Cyril nodded while Sparks grumbled.

“You know I wouldn’t unless I thought it was necessary,” she told Sparks, reaching to scratch between his shoulders. The grumbles ceased as the bird assumed a haughty posture. Cord raised her eyebrows to Cyril and chuckled. As Spark’s companion human, Cyril was well acquainted with the bird’s snooty disposition.

“Ready for the rest, then?” Now she was putting on her fireproof gloves. _Clippers or dremel?_

Sparks blinked slowly at her. _Clippers. The dremel buzzes and hurts my head._

“Right, then.” Taking the clippers in one hand, she held the other gloved hand out to Cyril and he placed one foot on the offered finger. _You are such a beautiful bird_ , Cord told him, a distraction as she trimmed his claws.

_I know._

 

* * *

 

The gloves came out again for the salamanders who were a much trickier case. Cord loved reptiles and while she was thrilled that they were on her list the rareness of Kalabri reptiles made diagnosing and treating them a tricky prospect.

Most reptiles were relatively quiet, their thoughts slow and meandering. She had known a complete consultation with a monitor lizard or a snake to take over an hour. Salamanders were the opposite. Their fiery humours made their thoughts rapid fire. When she had a congress of them in front of her, distinguishing who was talking and catching individual whole thoughts was a challenge.

Trying to ignore the excited chatter coming from the six starred salamanders on her exam table, she looked across at the woman who had brought them in.

“Tell me again what the problem is?”

“They’re too cold,” Mrs Nelson told her. “They keep escaping their tank and trying to crawl into the oven, or sleep with the cats, which the cats don’t particularly like. It’s their mucus, you see, it gets on them cats’ fur and then when they lick themselves ... well, the cats look like they’re licked a lemon and then ...”

“Thank you,” Cord cut her off. “Just a minute while I examine them, please.”

For the second time that day, Cord found herself handling fire types without gloves, but there was no way she could detect a temperature differential while wearing them. She placed her hand down on the exam table and addressed the group.

 _Would one of you like to ... oh, thank you!_ She addressed the salamander that was resting on her forearm. _My name is Cord. Your human companion tells me that you are all feeling cold._

_She not companion. Reyn is gone. Heat is gone. Reyn come back. We be warm. We miss Reyn. Miss Reyn’s warm._

Cord pondered the short phrased conversation.

“Who is Reyn, Mrs Nelson?”

“Ah, Reynard is my son. A good boy, but he’s gone away for a while and left these scamps with me. They miss him, I think. He spends a lot of time with them, usually one of them goes out with him, too. You see, it started when he was just a boy ...”

Cord spoke silently to the salamander on her arm. _Reyn keeps you warm?_

_Reyn is warmest. Rest on him. Gets all warm. We is cold. No Reyn, cold._

“Ah, would you please excuse me for a moment?” Cord asked Mrs Nelson and the colony of salamanders. Mrs Nelson nodded, again stopping in the middle of a recollection. Cord gave the salamander on her arm the opportunity to return to the table but instead it climbed up to her shoulders, its body against the back of her neck.

_Cord is warm. We like warm._

“Alright, then. Mrs Nelson, I just need to get a warming pad. Do you mind if?” And she indicated the salamander riding her shoulders.

“Oh, no dear. They do that to Reyn all the time. Sometimes I find them sleeping on him.”

That explained a lot. “Just a moment, then.”

Cord shut the exam room door behind her and made her way to the reptile ward. The staff watched her pass by and two of the nurses followed.

 _What’s your name?_ She asked her salamander stole.

 _My name Giada. Your place interesting. Ohhh warm good_ , Giada exclaimed as they entered the reptile ward.

“It is nice in here,” Cord gestured to the two nurses who had followed to come in and shut the door. “I need a large warming pad,” she told them, starting to look in the cupboards. “This is Giada. Giada, my friends Kista and Stefan.”

Kista and Stefan were crazy for reptiles of any kind and so they each took a moment to look the star salamander over, fussing and complimenting her. Giada might not have understood their exact words, but she could sense friendly intent, like most animals.

The increased warmth in the reptile ward was good for Giada and Cord felt her shift as she relaxed and heard her mental hum of happiness.

 _Don’t set me on fire_ , she asked. _My coat is flammable._

_We no fire. No fire Reyn. No fire Cord._

_Thank you_ , she replied. Reyn sounded like an interesting fellow. Six well trained salamanders who went out in public and slept on him made Reyn sound very interesting, indeed.

“Got one,” Kista called, dragging a large mat out of the bottom of the storage cupboard. Stefan was still trying to convince Giada to climb on his arm.

Taking the mat, she apologised to Stefan, “Another time. Giada’s friends await. Thanks Kista.”

Back in the exam room, Cord showed the warming mat to Mrs Nelson. “Cover it with a non-flammable substrate and ensure they have non-heated space that they can retreat to, if needed.”

“So now they’ll leave the cats alone?”

“All the animals in your home will be much happier,” Cord assured her. “Just have your son return the mat when he gets back and we’ll refund the security deposit.” As Mrs Nelson encouraged the other five salamanders back into their travelling tank, Cord spoke to Giada.

 _Thank you for trusting me and telling me what you needed. I hope you will all be warm until Reyn comes back._ Cord held out her arm as Giada made her way back to the tank.

_Thank you, Cord. We miss Reyn. You keep warm._

“I will, Giada,” she replied out loud, making Mrs Nelson jump. Indicating the last salamander settling in the tank, she apologised “Sorry, Giada was just saying goodbye.”

The woman looked at her blankly.

“I can talk to them,” she explained. “That’s why I specialise in Kalabri animals.”

“Oh. I wondered how you knew my son’s name. I didn’t know that salamanders knew how to talk.”

Cord gave her a patient smile. “Giada told me all about him. All animals know how to talk, it’s just that most people don’t know what they’re saying.” She opened the door and bid Mrs Nelson farewell. “Please stop at reception on your way out.”

Typing up her notes on the six starry salamanders, she added an alert to the file. “ **Notify Dr Cord when the warming mat is returned.** ” Hopefully she would get to meet Reyn and his salamanders again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all crazy people and I loves you!
> 
> \- Sophie <3


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience on updates. Despite Blue Ward being my NaNo novel, end of year exams have been consuming all my time. But now, finally, a new chapter has been birthed!

From her shoulder, Furvus clacked his beak and Cord scritched his glossy, black head as she turned the pages of the reptile book.

“A goanna of some sort,” Stefan pondered, looking from the book to the forearm long lizard.

Kista was standing with her hands on her hips, head tilted as she looked at the grey green reptile huddled in the bottom of a styrofoam broccoli box. “Monitor,” she corrected, “Goannas are monitors. This one likes water, I think. Look at the eyes and the nostrils.”

Cord looked up from the book and stepped closer to the box. She had been unable to communicate with it, yet. The lizard was too frightened.

“Do you miss the water?” Cord asked, both out loud and in her mind to the creature.

Its head lifted and turned towards her.

“You like to swim?” She asked it.

As it took a step towards her, Cord laid her hand on the edge of the box. “We’ll find you some water,” she told it, “You’ll get to swim, again.”

The pale, grey green head bobbed and, although it didn’t speak to her, Cord could sense that it relaxed.

“We’re friends,” she told it. “We will help you.”

Furvus’ tail curled around her neck, the tip brushing under her ear. He warbled a soft, reassuring noise, echoing Cord’s projected safety and care.

Satisfied that they had been able to reduce the animal’s stress, Cord returned to the book which Stefan had begun skimming through.

“Cord,” Kista called across the exam table. She’d answered the ringing phone while Stefan and Cord debated the colouring of a monitor depicted in the book. “Front desk says that there’s a guy at the counter. Reynard Nelson? You put a flag on his file.”

It took a moment, but then her eyes lit up. “Must be Reyn. You guys remember Giada, the starred salamander?”

“This is the reptile guy? Didn’t his mother bring those salamanders in?” Stefan asked.

“That’s the guy. We leant his mum a heating mat.”

Kista looked at Cord and pointed to the phone handset, “He’s waiting out front. You’re going to see him?”

Cord nodded and put the makeshift mesh lid back on the broccoli box. “This won’t take long. Then we can figure out what to do with this guy.”

With a dismissive wave, Stefan left the book on the counter. “I’ll go and set up something in the reptile ward.”

Cord paused a moment to transfer Furvus to the perch by the nurses’ station. Thanking Stefan and Kista, she pushed the doors to the reception hallway open and turned the corner, heading towards the desk.

As she approached the counter, Cord scanned the waiting room, noting the familiar faces and trying to guess which of the unfamiliar ones was Reynard Nelson. Teyfan caught her eye and nodded towards a tall man with long features and honey coloured skin. Chestnut hair fell to his shoulders as he leaned casually against the waiting room wall.

Cord froze momentarily, trying to reconcile the man in her waiting room with the short, matronly woman she had met two weeks before. Then, she spotted a familiar, reptilian head almost hidden by the fall of the man’s hair.

“Giada!” She exclaimed in greeting and then stopped and held her hand out. “Mr Nelson? I’m Cordana Ward. I met your mother and Giada when they were in a few weeks ago.”

Giada surged forward, her front leg clasping the point of Reyn’s open collar for balance. The salamander’s human held out his long fingered hand to shake Cord’s and she had just a moment to notice the way his grip enveloped hers in warmth before he reached a hand up to Giada and let her step on to his forearm.

“Someone’s happy to see you,” he said, extending his forearm towards Cordana.

Instinctively, the vet mirrored his action as Reyn took her elbow in his hand. The secure grip allowed Giada to clamber on to Cord’s coat and take up position on her shoulder.

_Reyn come home. Reyn visit Cord. Giada visit Cord._

“I’m glad to see you so warm,” Cord told Giada as she released Reyn’s arm

“Call me Reyn,” the man smiled as he nodded towards his salamander companion. “Obviously you’ve met Giada. We wanted to thank you for the loan of the warming pad.”

“You’re most welcome. I’m glad it was a simple problem, I have to admit that I’ve not treated many salamanders.”

“Not many of them around, no,” Reyn agreed. “Reptiles are something of an interest of mine. When Giada and her siblings needed a temporary home, I was happy to take them in. Of course, temporary became permanent and, well, here we are.”

Cord decided she liked the way his amber coloured eyes brightened as he talked about taking Giada in. “So you’re licensed for rare and endangered Kalabri reptiles?” She asked.

“Kalabri or otherwise. It’s my line of work.”

“It is?” Cord asked, inspiration striking. “You wouldn’t have a few minutes to help me with something?”

“Yeah, sure,” Reyn replied, his eyes flicking to the front door and back.

“If you don’t have time, that’s ok,” Cord backtracked, afraid she’d misread his interest.

“No, I do. I just ...” Reyn took a deep breath and straightened, “What do you need?”

“Would you follow me?” Cord asked, moving towards the doors that led to triage and the working area of the hospital. As she approached the doors, Cord realised that Giada was still riding her shoulder. _Do you want to go back to Reyn?_ She asked the salamander.

_Giada happy here_ , came the reply.

“Ok,” she murmured, holding the door open for Reyn, noting how the man’s six foot plus frame just made it through the doorway without scraping his head.

“I’m sorry, what?” Reyn asked as she let the door swing closed.

“Oh, I was just asking Giada if she wanted to come back to you, yet.”

“You were?” Reyn’s brow furrowed briefly. “My mother said you had a strange way of talking to animals.”

“You could say that,” Cord grinned as she led the way to the broccoli box on the exam table. “This guy was brought in this morning and we’ve been trying to identify it. Would you mind taking a look?”

Reyn’s uncertainty disappeared, replaced by a grin and he glanced around the alcove. “Uh, would you have gloves?” He asked.

“Of course,” Cord answered and turned to the bank of gloves racked on the wall. Snagging an extra large pair she handed them over. As Reyn took them for her fingers, she heard the familiar heavy swish of Furvus’ wings and she half turned to present him with her forearm as a landing space.

Complaining to her, the black pygmy griffin alighted on her arm, his tail whipping in circles until he found his balance.

_Not nice. You interrupted my landing_ , he scolded as he wound his black, furry tail around her arm and preened.

“I have a guest on my shoulder,” Cord explained, “I didn’t want you to land on her.”

Reyn watched as Furvus turned his head to note the salamander riding on his normal perch and turned his head away. There was no mistaking what he thought of Cord letting other creatures ride on his spot.

“You’re very good at understanding their body language,” Reyn commented as he pulled on the disposable gloves and lifted the mesh lid from the box.

“It’s not just body language,” Cord explained, “I can speak with them.”

Reyn paused to look at her, “So she was right.”

“Who was?” Cord asked.

“My mother. She said you talked to the salamanders but I thought that she was ...”

“Making it up?” Cord suggested.

“I would have said mistaken,” Reyn said “I mean, technically I know it’s possible, but I’ve never met someone who actually could.”

“Now you have.” Cord nodded towards the monitor that had pressed itself into the corner of the box. “Useful, except when I meet animals like this one, too afraid to speak.”

Reyn followed her lead and focused on the lizard. “You’re a long way from home,” he told it, gently stroking its neck with his fingertip. When the lizard responded by leaning into the touch, Reyn began to run his hand over the olive coloured body.

“You know what it is?” Cord asked in hushed tones as she watched the lizard’s response to Reyn’s touch.

“ _Varanus mertensi_ , I think,” Reyn told her. “I’ve seen a few around waterholes and rivers up north. Way up north. How’d it come to be here?”

Cord reached for the reptile identification book and turned to the binomial index. “Surrendered to us this morning by a vendor from the Rocklea Markets. There’s a couple of folks out there who bring us what they find. It started with banana box frogs, but now we get snakes and lizards, too.”

“So, just an accident, then?” Reyn wondered as he gently began to examine the lizard.

“Well, yes. Often they’re in with the produce and then the cold storage or the fumigation gas puts them to sleep and they don’t wake up until they’re unboxed at the market.” Cord shifted Furvus to the table so that she could turn the book’s pages faster. “There’s a couple of Brisbane vets who accept them.”

“Oh, yes. I’m aware. To stop illegal sale or possession or the spread of disease.” His attention shifted to the page in front of Cord, quickly scanning the information and photos. “Yes, it’s a young one, but I’m almost certain it’s a Mertens’ water monitor.

Cord checked the average length and weight recorded in the book and then looked over the live example in front of them. “A couple of months old?” She guessed.

“No more than that,” Reyn agreed. “Do you have someone who can house it?”

Furvus made his way to the box where Reyn’s hands were now resting on the top edge. He eyed Reyn’s honey coloured fingers and then stretched his head until he could look down into the box.

“We can keep it here until we find somewhere for it to go. We’ll contact the zoos and sanctuaries, see if any of them are interested.”

“Have you sexed it, yet?” Reyn moved his hand to block Furvus from climbing in to the box. Furvus responded by nudging at the fingers as if he wanted them to move out of his way.

“I wanted it to be more relaxed before we tried and, well, I needed to know what kind of lizard it was so I could look up how to tell.” She shrugged at Reyn as he raised an eyebrow at her. “We don’t get a lot of monitors to practice on.”

With a soft chuckle, Reyn lifted the lizard from the box and placed it on the exam table, being sure to keep the box between Furvus and himself. “Monitors are generally easy when they’re young. You can use the standard hemipene technique.” Reyn motioned for Cord to move into place behind the lizard and then gently raised its tail from he table, letting the skin tighten across the underside of its body where torso ended and tail began. “What’s your guess, Doctor?”

Cord shifted so she could also view the monitor from the side. “Male. I think.”

Reyn motioned to the twin ridges visible behind the vent, “Definitely. This works for young monitors, but the scent glands of older females can look similar to the hemipenes. Also, the bigger they are, they less kindly they look upon such an examination.”

With a nod of acknowledgement, Cord reached out to brush her finger along the monitor’s back as Reyn released its tail. “Thank you,” she told the young male, “We’ll get you warm and comfortable just as soon as Stefan has the tank ready.”

For the first time, the monitor raised his head and looked at her. _Swim_ , he said.

“You can definitely swim,” Cord assured him with relief. “He’s talking,” she told Reyn, “Thank you so much for your help.”

Returning the the monitor to his box, Reyn inclined his head. “My pleasure. Happy to help a fellow herpetologist.”

Cord reached for Giada, “Time to go, little one.”

_go home. See Cord again?_

“I really hope to see you again,” Cord answered as Giada made her way down the sleeve of Cord’s coat. Holding her hand out to Reyn, they clasped forearms again. “Can I give you a call if we encounter other tricky reptile questions?”

He paused and, again, Cord wondered if she’d been too forward.

“Sometimes I can be hard to get a hold of, but if I’m free, sure.” Giada finished her transfer to Reyn and nimbly made her way back to the favoured spot under his hair.

Cord was about to speak again when Reyn winced. The twitch frightened Furvus, who leapt from the table and glided to the floor, scurrying around the corner and out of sight.

“You okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Reyn replied, rubbing at his wrist, “But I should be going.” Stripping off his gloves, Reyn tossed them in the bin and moved towards the sink, “Can I wash here?”

“Of course,” Cord replied, “Shall I walk you out?”

When Reyn nodded, she waited for him to finish and then accompanied him to the exit. “Thanks for bringing Giada, too, she’s quite a hit around here.”

“Happy to,” he replied, hand resting on the door. “Give me a call. I mean, if you have more banana box lizards to look at.”

“Of course.”

As the door swung closed and Reyn crossed the car park, Cord wondered again at the way he vacillated between friendly and distant. Odd behaviour, she thought and, not for the first time, reflected that humans were the most difficult of the animals to understand.


End file.
